


Family Ties

by cassbuttandsquirrel



Series: Family Ties [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brothers, Destiel is there if you squint, Gen, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Post episode 12x23, Reverse pilot scene, season 12 coda, you'll see - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-31 06:25:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12126477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassbuttandsquirrel/pseuds/cassbuttandsquirrel
Summary: A quick ficlet set immediately after the events of 12x23 "All Along the Watchtower". My ideas of what the immediate aftermath would be. Dean-centric, but Sam gets his bit too. Underlying Destiel, but not at all the focus. Warning: lots of swears.





	Family Ties

**Author's Note:**

> Just as a disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or these characters etc etc. 
> 
> Personal Disclaimer: this is posted from my phone bc I am a failure and didn't bring my laptop cord to school with me. Apologies in advance for any awful formatting, and I will be back to clean it up I promise.

The soil was damp and gritty, seeping cold through his jeans as Dean dropped to his knees beside the body of his best friend. Sam had said something and had left him some indeterminate time ago (seconds? Minutes? Could be an hour by now), to run back to the house and Dean knew he should follow, but his legs couldn't hold up the cannonball in his stomach any farther. Funny that your body is heavier when you feel empty. Dean stared blankly at the inconceivable stillness of the body in front of him. One of the lapels of the angel’s trench coat moved every so often from the breeze that Dean knew was coming off the lake but he couldn't feel it. The nighttime sounds of the lake had been replaced by the deafening hum of shock, numbing him inside and out.  


Castiel lay sprawled out longer than Dean would have expected, one leg bent and tucked under the other in a pose that stuck something familiar in the back of Dean's deadened mind. His sluggish thoughts eventually brought up a memory of Cas lounging on his bed bingeing Netflix lounging in the same position and the dissonant happiness of the image made the hunter’s gut twist. Dean sucked in a sharp breath forcing himself back together but the air shook a bit on the way down. He opened his eyes to focus on the face so close to his right hand. His eyes were closed - he could probably thank Chuck for that small fucking wonder - but the pale eyelids still threw Dean back in time, flashes of brilliance streaming from Castiel's eyes and ears and mouth.  


And then Mom --  


_Fucking hell._  


Someone was breathing rough and loud in Dean's ears and it felt like an unblinking eternity before Dean realised the breaths were his.  


There was no fucking way that Dean was going to lose his shit on a fucking beach next to a goddamn cottage. He'd seen tons of dead people. Strangers, people he killed, people he loved: fuck, even Sam more times than he'd like to count. Did he break down when they found Charlie chopped up in a motherfucking motel bathtub?! Fuck no. A hysterical noise suddenly forced its way out of his mouth and bile rose with it.  


Cas wasn't supposed to die.  


Dean knew Cas was mortal, finite, _whatever-the-fuck_ : that bastard Ramiel had proved that well enough, but still Dean had always assumed that Sam and him would beat Cas to it. Going out in a blaze of fucking glory - some world-ending battle that Cas would survive and then continue to exist for eternity; maybe even coming to visit the two of them in heaven (as if him or Sam could ever get a free pass into the upstairs) every millennium or so for an ice cold beer and a perfect sunset. Fucking ridiculous pipe dream. Maybe he was fucking high when he created that impossible scenario because after 38 years, life had never been that fucking good to the Winchesters.  


It was just one goddamn tragedy after another; like him and Sam were some sort of cosmic punching bags for the universe. 

White hot anger snapped Dean out of numbness but was just as suddenly doused out with panic and terror and he froze. 

Something was wrong. 

_Smoke._  


Before he could even process what was happening Dean was up and stumbling, his feet propelling himself towards the cottage as his eyes saw flickering orange in the windows and his mind screamed _sammysammysammy._

The house was full of cloying heat and the air thick with smoke and Dean's own desperation.  
“Sam!” his voice was crackling like the fire, but he pushed through the foyer, towards the stairs.  
Panic rose, choking him more than the smoke. Where the fuck was Sam. If he couldn’t save Sam then why the fuck was he even breathing.. If Sam fucking died then -  


“Dean!”  


He turned around so quickly he almost tripped on his own feet. Through the haze he could see the gigantic silhouette of his brother backlit by the moonlight coming from the front door he had left open.  


“Dean!” Sam called again, “What the fuck are you doing? Get the fuck out of here!”  


“Sammy.” Dean coughed throwing himself towards him. “Sam. Sam.”  


Arms wrapped around him and Dean would have been embarrassed that his little brother was practically carrying him if he wasn't so relieved that he was okay.  


Clean air flowed into his lungs as Sam let him go to clear his own chest. Coughing himself, Dean slapped Sam on the back, still stumbling away from the house and pulling his brother with him.  


“You okay?” Dean asked as soon as Sam stood upright. “No burns? No cuts? No -”  


“Dean! I'm fine!” Sam batted away Dean's hands which had been flitting up and down checking for injuries. “You good?”  


Dean gave a swift nod. “What the hell was that?” he croaked.  


“Jack. The bastard set his own mom on fire.”  


“Fucking shit.”  


“Yeah and to ma-”  


Sam stopped, his eyes glued to the ground behind Dean.  


“Cas.” Dean hardly heard Sam say the name.  
They both stood in silence.  


“Dean, I -”  


“Yeah.” Dean cut him off.  


More silence. Dean ignored the wetness on Sam's cheeks, focussing instead on a small tuft of grass beside Cas’s left shoe.  


He was so concentrated that he didn't hear what Sam was saying.  


“What?”  


“Claire. Claire's got to know.”  


“Fuck.” Dean's sigh was shaky.  


Sam was quiet again.  


“I'll uh, I'll um.” Sam cleared his throat. “I can um take care of that if you want to…” He gestured from dead man to the Impala.  


“No!” Sam's head snapped up at the sharpness of his answer. “No,” Dean said, softer. He was terrified of what would happen if he looked at Cas again, and now he had Sam to take care of. “She should hear it from me, I think.”  


Without looking down he walked toward the shoreline pulling out his phone as he went. Two bars; the second flickering in and out but it was enough.  


The line rang once and then twice and some cowardly voice in Dean's brain wished that maybe Claire wouldn't pick up.  


“What do you want, loser.” Dean wanted to cry. Dean wanted to go to sleep and never wake up. Dean wanted to drink a hell of a lot of whiskey and hopefully slip into a coma. [Dean wanted his mom and Cas back.]  


Instead what he said was: “Claire?”  


“Duh.”  


“Are you at Jody’s right now?”  


“What's going on?” Her voice was serious.  


“Just yes or no.”  


“Yes. But De-”  


“You're gonna want to sit down.” Dean could hear the exhaustion in his own voice.  


“What happened?”  


The words stuck in his throat.  


“Dean?” Claire's voice was timid and small and seemed so far away.  


He pulled a hand down his face.  


“I dunno if Jody told you this but-”  


“Told me what, Dean?!” He could hear the panic rising in her voice.  


“We've been chasing after Lucifer and his kid and the showdown was last night.”  


“Why the fuck didn't you tell me you fucking basta-”  


“Cas didn't make it.”  


There was silence on the other side.  


“Claire? You still there?”  


“What?”  


“Cas. He uh. He didn't make it.”  


“No.” Claire had never sounded more like a child then with that one word.  


“I'm so sorry, kiddo.” Something warm and wet slid against his fingers and Dean realised he was crying. He wiped the tears away harder than necessary. This girl was losing her dad for the _nth time_ and he was the poor bastard who didn't take care of him.  


He waited a beat.  


“Claire. I'm going to need you to listen very carefully now.” He paused. “Can you do that?”  


“Yeah.”  


“Okay. I need you to tell Jody that we will be at your place in 5 hours. Can you do that for me? We're gonna come by for a visit okay? And we're gonna bring Cas too so you can,” Dean swallowed, “say your goodbyes.”  


“Okay.”  


“Okay. 5 hours and we'll see you. Is Jody there?”  


“Yeah. She just drove up. Home from the night shift.”  


“Okay. Get up and go talk to her. I'll see you in 5 hours.”  


“Kay.”  
She didn't hang up. Dean stayed on the line until he recognized Jody’s voice in the background.  
“Claire! Claire? What's wrong? Clai-”  


He hung up.

**Author's Note:**

> This can become a multi chapter fic (the rest of it is in my head... Or at least a second chapter) but due to my general lack of commitment this will stay a one shot unless y'all like this trash and convince me otherwise.  
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
